Shrinking Violet
by OneOriginalThing1
Summary: Cleary isn't what everyone thought Fred and George would look for in a friend. She's shy, prideful, and sweet. Oliver Wood hates her, Hermione Granger envies her, and The rest of the school doesn't know what to make of her. It just goes to show that as long as you can count all the real friends you have on one hand, you are doing alright. In her case, two. GeorgeXOC OliverXOC
1. Chapter 1

Two identical pools of brown, which reflected the dimly lit corridors, tentatively searched the area. Dark waves of black hair fell to the small of the girl's back and in front of her eyes as she took a quick breath.

She was afraid that if they even breathed too loudly, she and her friends would get caught.

_The dark image of professor Snape appeared. His tall frame whirled out from a dark cloud of smoke that lingered in the air, and the sound of his heavy strides bounced against the pristine walls. His voice flowed out in a silky manner as he began to question both students about what they were doing roaming the corridors this late at night_.

The vivid, horrific idea of Snape catching them out so late coursed through the girl's mind, and was enough to get her weak heart in an uproar.

"Can we leave now?" She whispered, her voice barely able to break the silence around them. Fred had grinned, a mischievous smile illuminating his face. His good natured, jolly green eyes scanned over his latest invention.

It was George, however, who placed a delicate hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle and fleeting like a butterfly. The girl looked up at him, and- not for the first time- noticed the obvious difference between George and his twin, Fred. Although they shared the same skin patterns and flesh tones, physical things, she could always tell them apart by their actions.

"Cleary's right, Fred, it's getting late." George clarified, and Fred rolled his eyes- and, of course, Cleary couldn't blame him. _Since when did it ever matter if it was late or not?_ However, Fred did seem to speed up his process, still as artful and detailed as it would have been if he moved slowly. His hands moved with precision along the contraption. It truly was enviable how skilled he was with this sort of thing.

"Done." He said, and brushed his hands against his trousers. His smile was now gone, and had been replaced by a hurried look. He glanced down the long hallway, a feeling nibbling away in his chest. He had felt this aching sensation once before, but currently couldn't seem to place when and where.

Regardless, the three walked briskly and quietly through the dim light. Fred seemed too perplexed in his own thoughts to notice what the other two were doing. Once again, it was George who noticed Cleary's expression- he noticed the uneasy way her teeth bit into the frosty red flesh of her lip, and her eyes darted searchingly and nervously across the room.

George's pale hand pressed against the smooth skin of her caramel colored arm. She breathed in deeply, preparing herself for whatever questions George might have, for he knew her much too well.

"A penny for your thoughts." A smile curled onto his lips, full of sincerity and a soft gentleness that resembled the flapping of soft wings against one's skin. She sighed, unable to know how to begin.

"It's about the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," as soon as the words left Cleary's mouth, George's smile broke out into a wicked grin. And it was only then that she realized how foolish she sounded. Of all the things to be concerned about, especially when one is wandering the dark school in the dead of night, she simply couldn't grasp why this seemed to bother her the most.

"It's not just me, is it-" She asked quickly and quietly, before continuing,

"-that feels like he doesn't know what the hell he's doing?" Fred smiled at her choice of words, and George looked back, for her words were very...un-Cleary like.

"No, it's not just you." Fred said, breaking his own streak of silence. His eyes danced curiously around the walls, as if he were trying to find an answer that lay hidden amongst them.

A long wisp of air was released from Cleary's delicate mouth, all from relief that she wasn't the only one who held such an opinion of her DADA teacher.

George was about to say something, his mouth open, when suddenly a burly figure interrupted him.

Oliver Wood's clothing was stained with grass and beads of sweat, much like the rest of his skin. His eyes were big and brown as he came to an abrupt stop, marveling at the sight of the three friends. Though, he mostly stared at the girl positioned between the two red heads.

"Fred, George, _Cleary_." Her name rolled of his tongue with malice, as though she was the sole reason that Voldemort himself had ever existed. His keen brown eyes narrowed at the mere sight of her.

On the occasional day when neither Fred nor George were around to keep her company, Cleary's mind would always wander to the subject of why Oliver Wood disliked her so strongly. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she was categorized as a distraction towards the two Weasley boys. Or maybe it was because every so often even Professor Snape spoke highly of her. Or finally, it could be because she was the Seeker for Hufflepuff.

"What are you two doing up so late when we have a game in a few days?" His tone was sharp, but more because of Cleary, even though he was addressing the boys. It would be a dirty lie to say that she wasn't used to it by now. How could she not be, when she had been enduring it for an entire year?

"We could be asking you the same question." Fred's mischievous smirk resurfaced, an amused glint twinkling in his eye.

"But I think we already know the answer." George finished, scanning and noting Oliver's appearance, to which he gave a snort.

"Go to bed, you two." Oliver said quickly, briskly rushing by Cleary as he walked down the narrow hallway.

"Oh come on, we were just getting started!" Fred yelled, only to be silenced by a quick squeeze from Cleary.

"Do you want to get caught?" She asked, her brown eyes piercing into his own. It was only after she asked did she find the answer to her question. The only person who cared about getting caught was her.

"Come on Miss. Cleary, let's get you to bed before-" Fred's voice was cut short by a silky voice, thick and straight from Cleary's imagination, directly into the tangible world around them.

"Well, if it isn't the Weasleys." Snape's dark, keen eyes fell to the boys before finally placing themselves on the thin girl between them. Her caramel colored skin glowed in the light and her dark hair framed her face, but it was her dark brown eyes that caught his attention.

Shame filled her two eyes as she thought about how dreadful it was to be caught by Professor Snape out-of-dorms after curfew.

"And Ms. Prince." His voice was cold and hard, earning a flinch and wince from Cleary as she refused to make eye contact.

"I suppose detention will be a sufficient punishment..." Snape drawled dismissively.


	2. Chapter 2

Cleary breathed in deeply as she walked with Fred and George to Gilderoy Lockhart's room. Though the troublesome twin boys had reassured and comforted her countless times that day, the painful feeling of anxiety gnawed at her heart. All three of them were to be at Lockhart's room, at precisely three in the afternoon.

"Detention isn't that bad," said one of the boys. Cleary warily looked up at the two gingers, her dark eyes filled with fear.

"Right?" George asked Fred. The two exchanged an uneasy look. Though they were accustomed to the trouble that accompanied mischief, they knew Cleary wasn't

By some miracle, Cleary's right hand was still quite smooth- regardless of the long nights in which she clutched her thick black quill, scribbling down potion formulas. Her fingernails were still long and decorated with a thick red polish, completely undisturbed. None of them had been chipped, even through the endless writing of accurate notes in her notebook.

"It'll be fine." George said, again. His eyes smiled as he placed an arm gently around her shoulder. This comforting gesture soothed Cleary, if only slightly.

"Besides, you've now got two hours with the most handsome fourth years in Hogwarts." George added, a sly grin stretched across his face as he ushered her into the class. The seats were arranged neatly. But in the very front, sitting at his teacher's desk, the blond haired fool was smiling to himself. He exuded an air of arrogant, pompous ambition.

"Oh, there you three are. Professor Snape told me about you attention seekers." His voice was lofty with pride. In that second, all three children wished they had not been assigned to Professor Lockhart's detention, but rather, anyone else's.

The boy grinned as his teacher walked to the front of the room. The caramel-skinned girl next to him looked as though she might question him about his sudden change in expression, but decided against it, and said nothing as she prepared her ink bottle, notepad, and quill.

"Welcome, students! Today, we will be learning about-" But the teacher's voice was cut off quickly, stopped as if someone had smacked a hand over his mouth. Cleary waited for several long seconds to hear something. Suddenly, she heard one giggle, then two, then four, growing at an exponential rate.

As the girl's brown eyes flickered up, she saw her teacher, whose thick, lustrous golden blond hair was now a tacky lime green. Her second observation was that the two boys next to her were the ones laughing the hardest, proud grins crossing their face.

"Expulsion! If I ever find the ones who did this..." Lockhart's green hair highlighted his now pink cheeks, which were this color due to embarrassment and fury. Both emotions coursed through his veins, and the cold venom leaking through his words filled the room along with his high pitched voice. He had, as of yet, failed to realize who had accomplished in changing his hair color from a disgusting yellow to a puke-worthy green. Cleary cared for each color about as much as she cared for the man himself.

"Best prank we ever pulled." The Weasley twins said simultaneously, in hushed voices, leaning towards Cleary. Their hot breath tingled on her ear. But even though she shook her head in obvious disapproval, a small smile arched onto her lips.

Those awful words were drawn in a thick, red liquid. Cleary stood tense, next to George, whose wide brown eyes took in the sentence. Each letter seemed to swirl before her eyes as she began to feel dizzy just reading them. George's large calloused hands rested on her thin shoulders, weighing her down like a bag of rocks.

And to make everything worse, next to the students was a pole, from which hung a thin cat with a raggedy brown coat. Mrs. Norris…

"That's right, you'll be next mudbloods!" The pale boy Malfoy yelled, a rueful smirk lighting upon his face. And while his eyes were not trained on Cleary directly, she felt strangely offended. Her brown eyes narrowed in a hushed sort of rage. The type that was so cold, it refused to spill out in harsh words or physical abuse. But rather, it instead sat at the bottom of her heart, nestled onto the bottom, refusing to move. At first the sensation was strong and fresh, but before long, it withered away. Either because it was worn out, or just that it was simply now a part of her, she could not tell.

But one thing she did know was that she was very, very frightened.

"Ginny's so cute." Cleary commented, an adoring expression crossing her features as snow flecks settled into her hair. Her teeth were visible through her wide grin, and George's scarf was wrapped around her neck. A pink jacket covered her arms.

The taller of the two boys scowled, and all three of them walked through the cold, barren landscape. She was walking in the middle, as always. This was the way everyone had remembered it for the longest time, the two Weasley twins and the Hufflepuff girl walking everywhere together. Though lately, they seemed to walk together even more then usual.

"Our sister, adorable!?" George asked, incredulously. Disbelief washed against his words. They cut against her confidence like an ice cold knife, but she didn't back down.

"Yeah," a smile illuminated upon her lips. Ginny was currently in an animated conversation with a few other young girls. But as soon as the world-famous Harry Potter walked by, her eyes trailed after him longingly, and a clumsy expression crossed her face.

"I think it's admirable how easily she falls in love." Cleary commented. George stared at her for several long seconds, unsure of what to say after that. His brown eyes swept over the short girl, his mind analyzing every single word she said. He ran them through his mind over and over, as if they held a hidden meaning.

"Please," Fred scoffed. Then he continued,

"She's only a first year; I doubt she even knows what love is." Cleary just shrugged, her eyes taking in the young girl- her hair slightly frizzy, and her features still just barely mousy. Overall, the small girl was still too young to have grown into her looks, and had an aching feeling of impatience drumming constantly against her chest. She looked too inexperienced in life to be sure of what the future held. But Cleary was certainly sure that no matter what, Ginny Weasley would as great as her brothers.

"Fred at Eleven," her voice quivered, as her eyes grew warm. Ginny's primate growing hazy as her thoughts tumbled over. "It's always love." Her head swiveled, anticipating a skeptical expression from Fred, but rather found nothing. She paused, her feet glued to the ground as she looked all about.

"Fred is coming up behind you," George whispered into Cleary's ear. She paused, her eyes sweeping behind her as a warm sensation overcame her entire body.

"It's always going to be me sneaking up behind you, love." Fred ruffled her hair, his rough calloused hands stringing through her curly locks. He could not comprehend the wisdom she seemed to acquire, but nevertheless admired it from afar.

"You're weird Fred." But her words held no malice, rather a blunt opinion that spread amongst them, filling the gaps in their bond.

For the first time, they were whole.

And then, suddenly, Oliver Wood's laugh shook the very ground.

In this light, he seemed likable. His short hair was tousled, his big brown eyes gleaming with innocence. But it was the smile he wore, the one that reached his eyes and crinkled at the ends, curved upwards with naive ambition. That caught her eye.

The girl silently wished she could make him smile like that more often. She wondered what it would be like to joke with him, have moments that were only exchanged between the two of them.

But she had given up on this dream long ago, for she realized that when Oliver's gaze turned to her his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled in a thin line.

"Come on, guys." Cleary tugged on the twins' sleeves, looking away from Oliver sharply.

"I want to go to Zonko's." She said. The name of the small shop itself was enough to make the two boys grin. This visit was extra special because it would be her first time there. Well, first time WILLINGLY, of course.

"Well then, come on!" Fred yelled, gently pushing her away from the school gates, towards Hogsmeade.

At first, neither Cleary nor Susan Bones noticed his obnoxious presence. They were too wrapped up in a detailed discussion about whether Chocolate Frogs or Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans were better. Susan claimed that Chocolate Frogs were more of a challenge, and who didn't love a good challenge? Both girls were happily chatting, smiles plastered on their faces.

It was his voice, cold and boastful, that had caught Susan's attention first, as her ears were more trained to recognize the various pitches.

"No one is worse then the Weasleys…" Said Draco. It wasn't until the last word, Weasley, that Cleary's ears perked up. Listening now more intently at the insolent boy's conversation, a thin black tentacle of rage prodded at the cold spot in Cleary's heart.

"That's what Father says." The third year girl recognized his voice immediately even through the dark night in the corridor. His flimsy, superficial voice called out amongst the crowd, 'you'll be next, mudbloods.'

"They're an embarrassment to the wizarding world, every single one of them." It was then that something snapped inside Cleary's angry heart. It echoed in her body as her rage tumbled over, awoken from its deep slumber.

"Just shut up!" She yelled, her body tense as she whirled around. Her thick hair cut into the air behind her. Everyone's laughter died, and Susan Bones stood still behind her. The shy girl's eyes widened in shock- nobody ever told Draco Malfoy to shut up.

"Just shut your mouth, you obnoxious little rat." Cleary yelled more insults, expecting a reaction. But Draco didn't shiver in fear, no, he smiled. And then he walked forward, his eyes trained on her robe.

"Oh, a little weakling like you, telling me what to do, huh?" His tone mocked her, and all of his friends and followers howled in laughter.

"Why don't you and your little friend scamper away into you little Hufflepuff common room." His tone was bitter, and she realized then why he had looked so intently at her robe. Her shiny metal Hufflepuff badge stood proud, prominent for everyone to see. The rage burned in her heart, seeping into her blood stream, growing ten fold as it spread to every fiber of her being.

"Oh, name calling. How barbaric and immature." Her tone hacked, slashed, and cut worse then his own pitiful insults ever could. Each word was laced with malice and hurdled at the platinum blonde, full speed ahead.

"Why don't you stop being so jealous, and find a hobby? Like, I dunno, staring at yourself in the mirror. I bet your father bought it for you, so you could take up his favorite past time." Suddenly, Cleary felt someone hold her arm- a strong grip. Her hands clenched as she looked up. And while half of her expected to find George or Fred, instead she saw Cedric Diggory.

His strong jaw, high cheek bones, and alarming grey eyes surprised her. She had become too familiar with the constant lingering of red hair, so orange that it gleamed as if it had been dyed with blood.

"It wasn't her fault, Cedric…" She vaguely heard Susan whisper.

"They were bad mouthing Hufflepuff." Cleary stated, looking around at the student body present for her little hissy fit. Draco stood staring at her with a mixture of shock and admiration on his face.

But what really struck her was the look Oliver Wood sent in the girl's direction before silently walking off, out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you think we should get Harry something?" Her voice was thin, and barely audible as she strolled through the rows of sweet delicacies. Her mind racing as she argued at the benefits of each candy, a chocolate frog would get her more practice with the spell, and she wouldn't be the first to deny that the unpredictability of the moving delicacy failed to enchant her. But the cards that accompanied it, which everyone sought out for, were absolutely useless. And then there were the Chocolate Cauldrons which were so tempting, but overflowing with high levels of sugar.

"Nah, he's only staying in the hospital for one night." Fred dismissively waved his hand, his wide brown eyes lingering on Cleary as she studied the nutrition facts behind the thin cardboard boxes. Then her hand quickly grasping another, resorting the process. After several long seconds she sighed, thrusting the boxes out to George.

"I can't take it anymore," her voice strained as she shuther eyes, for keeping them open only further compressed her mind into indecisiveness "just pick for me." He reached for the bad of Bertie Botts every flavor Bean Box without a moment of hesitation. His hand cutting through the air swiftly and dropping it into her palm.

She looked at the box for several long seconds, then up at George. She searched his face, looking for a glimpse of expression, a glimmer of personal motive that gleamed bright in his heart like a shooting star.

"You just want to find a vomit flavored bean don't you?" His mouth arched into a grin, showing a full row of glistening teeth, a hearty chuckle erupting from his mouth.

"Well when you say it like that-" Fred piped in, mirth glinting in his eyes.

"You make me sound Cunning-" George continued, he placed his arm on her shoulder. The new found closeness making his intentions even clearer, his eyes looking up at her persuasively.

"But yes." They finished simultaneously, earning several giggles from Cleary. Her eyes almost shut in pleasure, she seemed to glow as she shook her head and her laughter died down.

"You guys are weird." She stated, it was then that she noticed him. At first she only saw his tuft of chocolate brown hair, the strands interweaving themselves into one another. His eyes wide, searching the entire store. His friends chatted excitedly around him, but she didn't hear a single word escape his mouth and contribute to the conversation about him.

"Hey guys, I'll be right back." Fred's eyebrow shot up, as she shoved the box into his hands. At first his mind was muddled, perplexed at why she would leave so briskly with little to no explanation. But it was only when he caught of glimpse of her dark hair, brushing against Cedric's arm did he see the two deep in conversation. Every so often he heard a twinkle of laughter.

"Do you think," George started, avoiding his twins eyes as he kept them concentrated on a box of assorted sweets. "That she'll like him more then she likes us in a few years?" His hand trembled, as he finished his thought. At first Cleary had been seen as a stiff and awkward part of their daily lives, not only by them but by everyone who witnessed her near them.

For the course of several weeks she refused to meet their eyes, laughs at their jokes, or even hold a decent conversation with them. She had been an acquired taste, slowly threading through their lives until it was nearly impossible to imagine a life with out her.

"I don't think so." Fred's eyes shifted from his best friend to his brother, tinted with wisdom as he replied. His voice drawled with confidence, and he stood straighter. "She'll always be our best friend." He assured George, a smile curling onto his lips as he spotted her thin figure retracting from Cedric.

She pushed her hands, firmly into the pockets of her jacket as she blew a piece of hair out of her face. Her shoulders slouched in exhaustion. Her pace slow, and only came to a full stop once she bumped into George.

"Hex me, just hex me now." She mumbled into George's sleeves, her forehead resting against his shoulder, eyes clenched shut.

"What happened?" From what the two had seen, the entire encounter had looked friendly and inviting. And while Cedric Diggory often came across as someone who was not capable of such, he had when he saw Cleary. He even laughed, a rare occurrence even to those closest to him.

She sighed, long and heavy. Still refusing to move as it had offered her a comfortable wave of strength, something she didn't seem ready to give up just yet.

"Maxine said we didn't have quidditch practice, but then Malcolm said we did." Her voice hard, tinged with annoyance as she pressed on. "So naturally I asked Cedric about it, he is our captain after all, and he said we're having a strategy meeting." She moaned, a dull ache pounding in the back of head.

"No way!" A his laugh faded into the scenery as snow crunched under their feet. His eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"I'm serious, he cut the sleeves off of his robe just because he was hot!" Her laughter intermingled with his own at this point, the memory still sharp in her mind as she translated it to Cedric. His head tipped back, as his laughter poured out harder into the air.

"Who was the one who cut it for him?" He questioned, his elbow every so often bumping in her own as they drew closer to the school. The closeness didn't seem to bother either, despite the compressed amount of time they had known one another.

"You know the Syltherin girl, the one Snape says likes to steal?" Her voice hushed now, a tell-tale sign to realize she didn't enjoy to gossip. His eyes looked at her blankly, questionably even, as his mind raced to make the connections. Connecting every student with a picture.

"No way," he shook his head in disbelief, unable to believe in the level of stupidity he must have acquired. "He let her cut it off?" A hand cupped his mouth, unable to recess the reality off it while Cleary simply nodded.

"I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen it myself." She assured him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she observed his expression. And then the two sunk into silence, the sort that rather then burden their shoulders and prickle at their hearts. seemed to fill the gaps in between them sealing the distance and bringing the two closer.

"Hey Cedric," her voice was low, and carried into the delicate winter breeze that brushed against their faces. He caught her gaze over his shoulder, the steady eye contact assuring her she had his undivided attention. "Why are you still talking to me?" It took him a few seconds to realize what she had said, processing it before his eyes narrowed and his mouth curved upward on one side in amusement.

"You know, after you saw how I yelled at Draco." A soft tinge of pink colored her cheeks, her eyes refusing to make contact with his. The question had perplexed her for sometime now. Often popping up when she saw the pale boy lurking around the school, or another dramatic encounter in the hallways.

Then something very unexpected happened, pale hand. Twice the size of hers, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I wouldn't think of it as something to be embarrassment of," his vice was blunt, and straightforward. His hand reaching out to touch the tip of a tree branch. "A bit, unexpected," a light chuckle shot out of his mouth when he noticed her cheeks tinged with color, and not from the cold weather. "But over all admirable." He assured her, placing an arm around her thin shoulders.

"It takes real loyalty to stand up for your friends, and your house like that."

"Where's Fred?" One hand supported her aching head, while the other was looped through George's arm. Though her body swayed, and tilted to the sides of her feet as she walked, she was still acutely aware of Fred's lack of appearance.

"He'll show up in a minute or two." His voice came out clear, a small smirk playing at his lips as he took his seat in the middle of the classroom. Cleary scrunched her eyebrows together, but said nothing as she took her seat next to him. Her arm slipping out from his as she opened her messenger bag, the crisp sound of papers rubbing against one another filling the room. It was his warm hand, brushing against her wrist that stopped her.

"Don't," he shook his head, the smirk still creased on his face. Her dark eyes scanned him, unable to fully grasp what thoughts were floating in his mind. Nevertheless she shut her bag, and dropped it to the floor. Her arms caressing the long cherry wood table while she waited, looking at George skeptically.

"Welcome to class students!" Gilderoy Lockhart's voice was...different. Rather then a thick mixture of know-it-all, confident, pompous jerk. It was rather...mischievous, laced with trickery, and excitement.

But it was when his eyes met hers, thick and coated with several layers of a thick brown, his hair tinged with red, like a freshly picked orchid did she realize.

"You didn't." Her mouth slightly agape, and her eyes wide. The feeling was a mixture of horror, and amusement. The kind where she wanted to laugh, but was to horrified to do so. Causing the the corner of her mouth to quirk upwards.

"He's in the broom closet." George whispered, his smirk had now broken out into a wicked grin, resembling the Cheshire Cat. Eyes sparkling at his handiwork.

Who could blame him, after all he and his brother had successfully replaced their professor with a poky juice potion.

His hand caressed the small of her back, gently pushing her forward. Every little thing she did made him nervous, a sneeze, or a yawn. And never, had Feorge Weasley left her alone in the past five days. Accompanying her everywhere.

Because to them, Collin Creavey's petrification was enough to alert them that the same might happen to their best friend.

As the two walked down the hall, neither seemed to catch Oliver Woods lingering stare, particularly aimed at the darker skinned of the two.


End file.
